


Reflection

by roelliej



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Emotionally Repressed, Five Stages of Grief, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Ratings: R, Rimming, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 12:39:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2732894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roelliej/pseuds/roelliej
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry wasn’t surprised when he heard the sound of flesh connecting with polished wood. It had been festering for quite some time and Harry knew that his boyfriend had been walking on fire for far too long...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> Much thanks to D for the beta-check! <3

Harry wasn’t surprised when he heard the sound of flesh connecting with polished wood. It had been festering for quite some time and Harry knew that his boyfriend had been walking on fire for far too long. It still hurt when Harry saw the vulnerability coming through the crimson of anger, hidden in his cruel words. Shaped in barely visible tears. It took an expert to notice, but Harry was pretty sure that he knew his boyfriend from head to toe. _Literally_.

“Ronald Weasley, come back here this instant! Apologise to George.”

Then there was a word, which would cost his boyfriend a lifelong grounding if he would have been underage, but it still shocked Harry. He knew that Ron had talked back to his mother, mostly behind her back, but in all the rows Ron has had with Mrs Weasley he had never been able to bring her to tears.

“I’ll give that bloody tosser a piece of my mind!”

“No, you won’t, Gin. Let me talk to him. Please.”

It was Harry’s soothing hand that brought back the colour in his ex-girlfriend’s face. She briefly touched his hand; her warmth giving him the strength he needed to do what needed to be done.

“It’s okay,” Mr Weasley said, trying to comfort his broken wife as he nodded to Harry in a fatherly way. “It’s okay.”

Harry sighed, feeling his heart pounding in his throat as he made his way to his boyfriend’s hideout.  A friendly knock on the door of Ron’s old bedroom was crudely answered with a childish _fuck off_.

“It’s me.”

“Oh.” Silence. “Sorry.”

Harry swallowed as he tried to control his shaking hands when he came face to face with Ron. This was going to be tougher than he’d expected. Ron was playing hard-to-get; his I-don’t-want-to-talk-about-my-feelings-so-don’t-even-bother-trying-smile cut through Harry like a blunt sword, knocking him off balance for a moment.

“Shall we go home?” Ron said, like nothing had happened. He slowly walked towards Harry, giving Harry a seductive once-over. Ron was going to use his primary weapon, the one thing Harry feared most. “I’m really looking forward exploring every part of your body...”

“Ron...” Harry almost begged when he felt Ron pulling him close to his warmth, his intentions being rubbed against Harry’s growing interest.

“…with my tongue.” A whisper and a warm puff of breath entering Harry’s flushed ear, arousing him even further than he thought was possible. He knew all too well how talented his boyfriend’s tongue was, bringing back happy memories of countless sultry nights in their bed when Ron would pamper the swollen head of Harry’s cock until its colour had turned into dark purple, licking and licking until Harry climaxed with a shout, coating Ron’s lips and cheeks with his release. Or the way he slowly rimmed Harry before being thoroughly fucked by Ron’s impressive manhood. He was weak. So fucking weak.

“Or shall I drop to my knees right here?”Ron whispered huskily, rubbing Harry’s trapped erection through his trousers. “Do you want that? Do you want me to take your cock out of your trousers and put it in my warm mouth?”

_Yes!  Fuck yeah!_

“I could suck you off in a couple of minutes,” Ron said, wiggling his eyebrows. “I know that you’re dying to come in my mouth. I’ll swallow every single...”

_Please God! If You’re there somewhere, help me! Just this time..._

“No!”

It took nearly all of Harry’s strength to push Ron gently onto the bed.

“Oh, you want to go all the way? Fuck me in my childhood bed? Little pervert.”

“I want to talk, Ron,” Harry whispered, while he dropped himself next to Ron, feeling completely drained and empty.

“Can’t we talk _after_?” Ron’s hand started caressing Harry’s back. He wasn’t giving up that easily.

“No!” Harry shouted, suddenly fuelled with determination. “I want to talk! Right now!”

Ron’s smile faltered and Harry immediately regretted his outburst. Still he didn’t back down when Harry saw his boyfriend’s ears reddening. He braced himself for what was about to come.

“And about _what_ do you want to talk, if I may ask?” Ron sneered Hermione-like, his face reduced to a snarl.

“About what has just happened,” Harry said, refusing to look the other way as he saw electricity flying from Ron’s eyes. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Wrong?” Ron said, laughing soullessly. “What should be wrong with me?”

“Don’t act like a child, Ron,” Harry said firmly. “I’m your boyfriend. I happen to know that you can’t cope with your grief about...”

“Don’t-mention-his-name!” Ron shrieked, his outburst totally overwhelming Harry. “I don’t want to talk about it!”

Ron made his way to the door, but Harry was a tad faster. He spread his arms, trying to look bigger than he actually was.

“Move aside, Harry,” Ron hissed, trying to grab the doorknob, but Harry pushed away his hand.

“You’re staying here,” Harry said, trying to ignore the tremors of anxiety racing through his body. “You won’t leave this room, until I say so. I won’t allow it!”

“You know that I could push you aside,” Ron said, his tone threateningly, while making another attempt to escape. Harry firmly grabbed Ron’s wrist.

“Fuck off, Harry,” Ron snapped, his voice growing louder. “Or I swear to Merlin...”

“Or what?” Harry said softly, his eyes reduced to slits. “You’re going to hit me? Oh, I see it in your eyes. You really want to do it, won’t you?  It’s so tempting, isn’t it? Knocking me around like a ragdoll. By all means, try.”

“Harry...”

“Hit me, Ron!” Harry shouted, his face dangerously close to Ron’s, still refusing to release him. “Hit me hard and good. I’m dying to taste copper. Knock me out with one well-aimed punch.  Right here.” Harry pointed towards his right cheek.

Ron staggered a bit, his face pale with shock. He looked like he was going to be sick. Harry released him, but still refused to step aside.

“Harry, please.”

“Hit me,” Harry said again, the venom in his voice slowly evaporating into thin air. “If that what it takes to make you feel better, Ron.”

“I don’t want to hit you,” Ron whispered hoarsely. “I could never live with myself if I did.”

“Then talk to me,” Harry said, his voice breaking as he lost his vigorous facade. He took Ron’s hand into his and there was no firmness or aggression in his grip. Ron bit his lips avoiding Harry’s teary stare. Harry softly guided him back into reality with his hand, connecting their eyes.  “If you don’t want to hit me, then talk. I want to help you. Please don’t shut me out.”

“Harry, don’t do this...”

“I love you, Ron.”

And Ron broke. Like a wall being hit by wrecking ball. Sudden, but oh so effective. Harry was there to collect the pieces, embracing his boyfriend, pouring all the love he felt for the stubborn git in the hug, mending him.

“It’s okay, Ron,” Harry whispered against his boyfriend’s hair as Ron’s sobs were muffled by Harry’s shoulder.  “It’s okay.”

“I...I...can’t...” Ron’s voice was broken, almost unable to form a single word.

“Calm down, love,” Harry said, placing a soft kiss on Ron’s crimson ear while guiding him carefully to the bed. “It’s okay.”

“I can’t...”Ron whispered as both men sat on the bed, still trying to bury his face into Harry’s shoulder, who calmly stroked Ron’s ginger manes. “He...I can’t...”

“He?” Harry asked, a bit confused. Then, before Ron was able to open his mouth, Harry finally understood. “George.”

“Every time I see him...”

“...you see Fred.” Harry completed the sentence. “But George isn’t Fred.”

“Almost,” Ron said softly, a bit Weasley-stubbornness-esque. “I see it in the way Mum and Dad look at him. The way they’re treating him.”

“Is that really true?”

“They never asked me how _I_ was feeling,” Ron said, tears flowing down his cheeks. “I lost a brother, too.”

“They did, sweetheart,” Harry whispered.

“Really? But...”

“Maybe you weren’t listening,” Harry said, wiping away Ron’s tears with his index finger. “Or maybe you refused to listen. Anger is so much easier than admitting that you’re feeling lost without your brother. George and the rest of your family accepted their grief. You didn’t. Until now. Can you blame them for that?”

“No...”

“Fred isn’t here anymore, sweetheart,” Harry whispered hoarsely. “That hurts and it will probably hurt for the rest of your life. But that’s logical, Ron, because you love him. But he’ll be truly gone, when you stop thinking about him. Or stop talking about him with the people who love him as much as you do. Don’t keep Fred for yourself. Share him. With your family. With me. With George.”

Harry’s speech was answered with a kiss, filled with so much love and grief, that it brought Harry close to tears, too.

“I love you, too, Harry,” Ron said, between kisses. “We really can’t...”

“No,” Harry said, smiling. “First the main course, then desert.” He pulled Ron close, his mouth close to Ron’s ear. “Which will include me on all fours, yearning to be filled.”

“Merlin, Harry...”

“First things first, sweetheart.”

“Stay with me,” Ron whispered, almost pleading as they released each other.

“Until the end,” Harry said softly as both men made their way to the door, ready for the next chapter.


End file.
